


The Commander is a Tank

by JJMarmite



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9815951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJMarmite/pseuds/JJMarmite
Summary: Isn't Commander Shepard, like, mostly machine at this point?And even if she's not, don't the bits they replaced (and she upgraded) basically make her a super-soldier at this point?Idle talk on-ship to this effect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yep.

The conversation - which hadn’t been especially interesting to start with - trailed off into quiet as the three marines watched Shepard go by towards the main battery. They waited until they were very sure the door had closed behind her before even moving again.

“Calibration time again, I guess,” Hicks said, jabbing at whatever it was on his plate with a fork. Today was not a good food day, it seemed. The fork had been a poor choice, too.

“If you don’t calibrate often you could start to find your aim drifting,” said Hoare, earning himself two very withering looks from the others. He held his hands up. Hoare had already finished his food because Hoare was always the one that finished first. If the others didn’t speed up he’d probably finish theirs, too. It was a habit, and recently it had only got worse.

“Hey, just saying. Not that the Commander isn’t the one person on this ship who deserves R&R the most out of anyone. Being a one-woman army and the last best hope for galactic civilization has to got to a do a number on your nerves,” he said.

“She seems solid as a rock to me,” said Schofield through a mouthful of what claimed to be goulash, but could have been anything. It was the same as what Hicks had and what Hoarse had had a moment ago before polishing it off. War rations. They fooled no-one. 

“Me too. Last time she spoke to me she was pretty much on top of things,” Hicks said. Hoare lightly rapped his fist on the table a couple of times, though not loud enough to draw too much attention. It served merely to emphasise his point. Or so he thought.

“That’s what I’m saying! I think we’ve forgotten that our Commander is a top-of-the-line, custom-built badass and all-round killing machine.”

“At no point did you mention this was what you were saying,” Schofield pointed out, but Hoare was already going though and didn’t hear him. He stuck out a thumb as he started counting off

“For one thing, right? N7 rated. So you’re already starting from the best of the best. The cream of the badass crop right from the get-go. You ever seen her fire a gun? I swear I’ve seen her shoot things that probably didn’t realise they were in the firefight yet, it’s ridiculous. I mean, her whole team is ridiculous but it’s just-”

“You’re not telling us anything we don’t already know,” Schofield interrupted. Hoare, still with his thumb sticking out, hung for a moment or two before frowning and crossing his arms, leaning back in his chair. He actually pouted, which only made the other two grin. He wasn’t going to let that stop him, though.

“Ugh, fine. Point is though, on top of all that, she’s also a straight-up, honest-to-goodness super soldier. Did we forget that? She’s got armoured skin.”

This genuinely caught Schofield and Hicks off-guard, because neither of them had ever heard this before. Everyone knew about what Shepard had gone through after dying (it said a lot that they’d accepted the fact that she’d died in the first place, to be fair) but no-one had ever pried into the details. They had never felt the need. The Commander was the Commander, and that was all they’d needed to know.

“What?” Hicks asked.

“Armoured skin, yeah. And reinforced bones and muscles. The works. She’s basically unbreakable. And superhuman. You know she headbutted a Krogan, right? And didn’t die?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Kaiden told me! Or I heard Kaiden telling someone else. Point is it happened. Think about that! Not only did she figure headbutting a Krogan was a good idea - which I’m sure it was! - but she walked away from it, too! That’s a role model!” Hoare said, making authoritative jabbing motions with his fork.

“I did see her firing a Widow, once,” Schofield said quietly, staring at the table.

They all knew a guy who’d tried doing that once. It hadn’t worked out well for him. The weapons was already designed for a two-man team in the first place, and that was just for getting it place to place. Shepard threw the thing around like she’d forgotten she was holding it at all. With one arm. Hicks swallowed a mouthful of the maybe-goulash.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment. They and just about everyone else on the ship had always thought of the Commander as a peerless soldier it was true, and with good reason. But none of them had ever really stopped to consider how above their level she actually was. It wasn’t even their fault. She was just built better than they were now. Than just about anyone else was, at least anyone they knew.

Predictably, Hoare was the first to speak.

“I tell you. Say what you like about them - you know, that they’re evil, misguided lunatics who should be shot on sight and all that  - but when Cerberus put the Commander back together they were not messing around. The Commander is a tank.”

“They improved my hearing, too,” said a voice. All three of them froze for an instant before leaping to their feet and saluting. Shepard was giving them all a very lop-sided smile, and that she was at least a head shorter than the tallest of the three (Schofield) did not make any of their hearts beat any slower.

“At ease. Sit down guys, it’s fine. They didn’t improve my hearing, by the way. You guys are just loud. Is that goulash?” Shepard asked, taking a free seat for herself and pointing across to Schofield’s plate. He peered down at it, squinted, and shrugged.

“Maybe. We’re not sure,” he said. Shepard grinned.

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” she said.

Close up to the Commander, you could sort of see the scars. They were very faint now and you really had to look to see them, but once you did they all sort of leapt out at you at once. The look of a person who had literally gone to pieces and been fixed. Which was appropriate, because that was what had happened. The scars crinkled when she smiled. Her skin didn’t look particularly armoured to any of the marines, though they were trying not to stare now they knew.

“Did I hear one of you call me a super-soldier?” Shepard asked. Hoare winced and the other two immediately stared at them across the table.

“I was being...hyperbolic…” Hoare said, convincing no-one. 

“I’m flattered. But I really don’t want anyone putting me on a pedestal, okay? I run the ship but I don’t want any one of you thinking that I ever consider myself anything more than a soldier or any better than the rest of you, alright? And I don’t want you thinking I’m anything more either. I’d be nothing without my crew. Just a heavily armed woman in a tin can in space all on her own. We’re all in the same war.”

This hung in the air above the table being taken in by the marines, who couldn’t really find anywhere they wanted to pick holes in it. It left even Hoare a bit speechless, and it was Shepard speaking again who broke the silence this time.

“Being a cyborg revenant is pretty great though, I will admit. Beats being dead for sure. I’d definitely recommend it the next time you get killed. Did wonders for my career and my career was already doing well, in case you didn’t hear,” she said. This got smiles going again.

“I didn’t know it was an option open to everyone,” Hicks said.

“Anyone can do it! The steps are pretty simple. One, save the Citadel, that part’s easy. Two, get spaced. I’ll admit that bit wasn’t as much fun. Wouldn’t do it again. Three, attract the attention of a nefarious organisation with more money and technology than sense that’s willing to spend billions putting you back together again. Four: headbutt Krogans. See? Simple. Most people just don’t have the confidence to pull it off,” Shepard said.

Her expression softened slightly

“How are you all doing anyway? You need anything? Other than better food. Or actual, human food, for a start,” she asked. They all shook their heads, almost in unison.

“We’re a-ok Commander. Ready for anything,” Schofield said.

“You just give the word,” Hoare added.

She looked at each of them turn. Only for a second or so each, but that was apparently all the time she needed to thoroughly and completely assess what they’d told her, judge that it was the honest truth and that that was alright then. She stood back up.

“We’re a couple of hours out. Some fresh hellhole I’ve never heard of. Probably got some armour-plated native beastie that I’ll have to shoot a few times. Probably have to rescue Garrus at least once. Might have to blow something up. Or hack something. You know how it is. Should find something useful down there, mind. So that’s good,” she said, rubbing her face. 

The amount of things people who were in one place needed that were on a different planet in a completely different part of the galaxy was staggering. It was part of the job she knew and every little added to the war effort, but sometimes it was hard to shake the impression that the Normandy had become a very expensive courier service without anyone really realising.

They did kill things sometimes, she supposed. Quite a lot of the time, actually.

The three marines watched her as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose. Schofield cleared his throat. One of her eyes opened again, hands still to her face. The unspoken and universal symbol of ‘I am pinching my nose, do say what you mean to say’.

“You don’t need to worry about the food you know, Commander,” he said. For possibly the first time he’d actually caught some inkling of the weight riding on her shoulders and surged with guilt at the thought that he might be adding to it.

“Just point us at what needs doing,” Hoare said.

Shepard smiled again, and while a smidgen of the strain still showed in her eyes the rest of her face lit up so much it was almost impossible to notice. The smile of a person who knows the name of everyone on their ship and knows that if they don’t make decisions nothing would ever get done. A tired smile, in a word. But a smile that made those on the receiving end feel like they were standing in a ray of sunshine. It was uncanny.

“It’s okay guys. It’ll take like two seconds. I needed to go and buy some more guns anyway. Ooh, and armour too. I wonder if they have any, uh, T5-V pieces kicking around. You never know. The marvelous things you can get on the Citadel…”

This was something they could all agree on. After another moment and a few reassuring pats on the back Shepard walked off again, disappearing around the corner and presumably taking the elevator off to do something important. She was always doing something important. The three marines sat silently for a good ten seconds.

“Did you ever notice that Shepard has managed to get discounts from just about every shop on the Citadel by giving them endorsements? That’s some enterprising use of fame right there,” Hoare said. Schofield chuckled. The experience of walking past a good dozen or more shops all playing the exact same message one after another was still a novel one.

“Heh, yeah. Do you think they’ve noticed yet?” He asked. 

They exchanged looks, and then burst out laughing. 

It was loud enough that Garrus had to start calibrating again. Not that he needed the excuse to try and find something to distract himself. Hot and bothered was no way to tend to weapons, as Shepard well knew. That she’d taken time out of her day just to pop in and fluster him said a lot about how well she knew this. Hard to be too mad at her, though.

After all, she had headbutted a Krogan. You don’t mess with that.


End file.
